


Wonderful Part of the Mess We Made

by canyousonicmedoctor



Category: Carol (2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canyousonicmedoctor/pseuds/canyousonicmedoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Therese settles down, leaning against a brick structure jutting out from the roof and taking a drag from her cigarette, the mug of coffee discarded at her side for the moment. Carol faces away from her and out towards the sprawling city below them, blonde curls being whipped along over her shoulders. </p><p>“I want to…” Therese trails off as Carol’s eyes find her own. “I mean, is it okay if I ask you some…things?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonderful Part of the Mess We Made

**Author's Note:**

> My take on how the "ask me things" scene went down (and because I really wanted to write Carol telling Therese about Abby)
> 
> Title from "Flaws" by Bastille
> 
> Also it's 3:45am so this is unbeta-d and any mistakes are mine and might be fixed after sleep

Sharp raps on the wooden door draw Therese out of her reverie. She glances out to the hallway as though her visitor might just appear in her apartment like a spirit. It wouldn’t be a surprise if only because everything with Carol is a surprise to her.

Discarding the dishtowel and half-dried bowl in her hands, she rushes to answer the door. Her hands smooth over her skirt, all of a sudden far too conscious of her appearance for reasons she isn’t quite sure of. The cool metal of the doorknob sits firm and reassuring in her hand as she steps back to open the door.

For a moment, all she can do it stand there and breathe and try not to look every bit as frightened as she feels. Carol smiles and Therese draws forward in the space of the silence as she attempts to find whatever she was going to say when she’d reached the door.

“Your landlady let me in,” Carol explains, looking for all the world totally at ease in the doorframe. A scraping noise draws Therese’s eyes to the floor, and she’s startled that other colors exist outside of the red of Carol’s lipstick. “Merry Christmas.”

All she can do is stare from the small yellow suitcase back up to Carol’s face in surprise and astonishment. “Open it,” Carol insists, a hint of impatience coloring her tone. Obediently, Therese sinks down, drawing the case to her and undoing the clasps. While she really had no expectations before opening the gift, she certainly could never had imagined to have in front of her the latest camera model and, geez, a dozen or so rolls of film. It’s thoughtful and perfect and everything she could have wanted. She reverently picks up the camera, thumb gliding over the lens, fingers finding the shutter. 

“Oh, Carol,” Therese breathes, “Thank you.” Carol only smiles wider in response.

Gathering up the suitcase, she properly invites Carol into the apartment, leading the way into the kitchen where she carefully places the precious gift on the table. Locking the case shut tight, she turns around to see Carol inspecting the photographs on her wall. Her scrutinizing gaze makes self-consciousness and a desire to just explain overwhelms Therese, making her squirm. “It’s not very good; I was rushed.” She hates how that sounds but she simply needs Carol to know that this isn’t all she is capable of. “I mean…I can do better,” she says, looking at a spot low on the wall. 

“It’s perfect.” Therese glances up, eyes on the back of Carol’s head. She wants to say something but all she can do is hear those softly spoken words running over and over in her mind. “Is this you?” She watches as Carol’s fingers trace the edges of the picture. 

“Mhm.” Therese thinks of the little girl she had met the day before and knows she must have been about the same age in that photograph. She can feel a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips and has to wonder why between Richard and her job, she only finds herself in these moments lately when she’s been around the woman in front of her.

“Do you have anything other than photo chemicals in the icebox?” Therese is drawn back into the present by the sudden raise in pitch in Carol’s voice. “I’m feeling…”

“Sure,” she says, keeping an eye on Carol as she moves into the living room. Granted, there isn’t much in the icebox other than photo chemicals, so she grabs two beers from the top shelf and bottle opener. Just as she turns to bring the drinks to Carol, she hears the sharp, quick breaths coming from her direction. 

Therese abandons the drinks, stalling in the doorway before crossing over to Carol. She rubs a soothing hand over her back, only stopping when Carol’s hand covers her own. Her own breath hitches at the minimal contact. All she can do is stay that way, frozen under the warmth of fingers pressing against the back of her hand. Time slows as she waits for Carol’s breaths to even out, focusing on the feeling of cotton rather than the softness of the hand over her own.

“Do you still want that drink?” Therese manages to ask after an unknowable amount of time passes. The words shatter the air around them, and Carol withdraws her hand as she nods. Therese rubs at her fingers, now cold in their exposure. Therese retreats into the kitchen, emerging with two steaming cups of coffee. She hands one to Carol who holds onto it like a lifeline.

Therese stands awkwardly in her own doorframe, watching as Carol takes a sip from her mug. “I would like to show you something.” Carol looks up but says nothing. Silently Therese leads her out of the apartment and down the hall to the back stairwell. 

Three flights up and she’s pushing through a solid metal door and out onto the roof of her apartment building. Cold air immediately numbs her cheeks and the tip of her nose but it’s easy to forget about those things with the landscape sprawling out around her. Out here the silence is broken by car horns and shouts; its exhilaratingly alive.

“I’m sorry about that,” Carol says, somewhere outside her field of vision. It’s almost lost, the words swept away on the wind. 

“No,” Therese insists. “Don’t be.” Carol pulls her omnipresent cigarette case out of the pocket in her coat. She offers one to Therese. They have to get close in order to shield the lighter from the wind. When Therese looks up, she can see the faint sheen of tear tracks on Carol’s cheeks.

She settles down, leaning against a brick structure jutting out from the roof and taking a drag from her cigarette, the mug of coffee discarded at her side for the moment. Carol faces away from her and out towards the sprawling city below them, blonde curls being whipped along over her shoulders. She wants to protect Carol from the harsh wind like she could the lighter in her hands but she knows there’s nothing for her to do.

“I want to…” she trails off as Carol’s eyes find her own. “I mean, is it okay if I ask you some…things?” Instantly, Carol’s whole face softens, releasing the tension sadness fostered there. Therese watches the light glint off of red heels as Carol draws closer. She sinks down to sit on the structure so that Therese’s head is level with her thigh. For a moment the only sound is Carol’s mug meeting the hard, brick surface.

“Of course.” Therese has to resist the desire to rest her cheek against the soft fabric of Carol’s dress as she draws her legs up to her chest. She looks up and Carol is looking straight ahead, out across the roof and into the inky, starless night sky. Whatever question is forming in her mind flies away as Therese studies the curves and lines of her neck. Turning her gaze back down to her hands, Therese takes a deep breath to gather her concentration. Just start with something easy.

“How long have you and your husband been married?” Carol chuckles like the inane nature of the question surprises her.

“Ten years. When we met I was twenty-two. Harge was twenty-seven with money and the whole world waiting to shake his hand; or so I told myself.” A sad smile plays at her lips without quite reaching her eyes, which hold nothing of the spark Therese has seen in them before. “We married three years later.” Cigarette smoke clouds Carol’s face as it floats towards the sky, but the bitterness there is universally recognizable.

“Did you love him?” Therese already knows the answer, but she wants to know the story. She needs to know Carol, inside and out, in any way she can. 

A long silence stretches out as Carol takes a drag, the red-tipped cigarette flaring and burning imaginary, impatient holes in Therese’s skin. She has to hear the words from Carol’s lips. Never in her life has she needed something more.

“I thought I did. I tried to.” The words suck the air from her lungs as she waits for Carol to say anything else. “It is very…easy to believe a thing like that when everyone around you is insisting it’s true. But no, I never did love him the way he loved me.”

“So why only get divorced now? Why not five years ago or even at all?” Desperate to understand this woman in front of her and knowing she never, ever will, Therese shifts onto her knees so that she faces Carol. Looking into her face is akin to looking directly at a flash bulb- so blinding that for just a fraction of a second it constitutes your whole world. 

Carol takes in a deep breath while Therese feels like she can hardly breathe at all. “Ultimately it was Harge’s decision. A few years a go, I…had an affair.” Here she pauses and if Therese hadn’t already memorized the plains of her face, she might not have caught the look of uncertainty Carol did her best to cover up while looking everywhere but in Therese’s direction. “With my oldest and dearest friend, Abby. And Harge found out.” She opens her mouth as though she wants to say something more but the cigarette smoked down to the filter takes the place of the words instead.

Therese stubs her own out against the cold bricks. She suddenly finds it too be too much to look Carol in the face so she stares off at one of the pinpricks of light in the distance, but moves so that her arm leans against Carol’s leg. What she can’t convey with words is, she can only hope, heard through the small, but meaningful point of contact.

“Do you hate me?” And of course Therese doesn’t hate her. From the moment she saw how Harge reacted to her around Carol, she’d suspected- maybe not known for sure but, well, she’s not stupid.

“No,” Therese replies, and it’s only then that Carol makes eye contact with her. It’s all she can do not to look away. Therese glances down as Carol’s lips quirk into the beginnings of a hesitant smile and when she meets Carol’s eyes again, they are open and dangerously affectionate. With an intensity that surprises herself, Therese knows in that moment that she wants more than anything in the world to see that look every day. 

“Is that why you were upset? Earlier, I mean.” The words have an instant effect on Carol: she glances away, picking up the coffee mug before striding to the perimeter of the roof, looking out. Therese tracks her with her eyes.

“I wish it were that. Harge has gotten an injunction to keep me from seeing Rindy until it’s time for the damn custody hearing. Three months away.” Of all the things Therese might have expected, that certainly wasn’t it. She’d only known Carol for a short while and even she could see how important that little girl was to her. 

“I’m so sorry,” Therese says but it’s utterly meaningless, not unless she can do something. “Is there any point in…I don’t know, fighting it?” She can’t just sit here and watch Carol suffer without wanting to do anything within her power to make it better. 

“The injunction? No.” The defeat in Carol’s voice sets Therese’s teeth on edge and she’s on fire, burning to make things right.

“I feel useless, like I can’t help you or offer anything-” she’s cut off by a sigh.

“It has nothing to do with you.” While that’s true, it doesn’t make it any easier for Therese to brush aside. When Carol turns around, Therese glances down, the remark stinging far more than she would like to let on.

“I’m going away for a while,” Carol begins. Therese can’t help herself, the indescribable panic those words spark in her.

“When? Where?” 

“Wherever my car will take me. West. Soon.” Feelings of abandonment that Therese has no right to feel, overshadow anything and everything else. Even now she knows that she couldn’t bear not having Carol in her life. “And I thought...perhaps you’d like to come with me.”

A beat passes as the words sink in. “Would you?” Carol asks. When Therese looks up she watches as Carol’s fingers fiddle with the mug in her hand, so unsure and vulnerable.

She knows it’s dangerous and reckless and could end up so horribly wrong, but lord help her she wants it so badly. How could she not want to spend every moment she can with the enthralling woman in front of her. So she says the only thing she can. 

“Yes. Yes, I would.”


End file.
